


I Keep Mine Hidden

by powerwisdomandcourage



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Awkwardness, Bottom Sherlock, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Toys, Top John, fleshlight
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2018-04-17 14:36:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4670306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/powerwisdomandcourage/pseuds/powerwisdomandcourage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John keeps his sex toys hidden, afraid Sherlock won't be very receptive to them. When Sherlock mistakenly brings one along on a case, John has some explaining to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KittieHill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittieHill/gifts).



> If you care to look it up, the one John uses is called the Fleshlight Classic Pink Butt. Title of this fic inspired by Smiths song of the same name. Much thanks to my amazing friend and beta reader effystonem

Locked in his upstairs bedroom with Sherlock out for the afternoon, John finally felt comfortable enough to masturbate.

He and Sherlock had been together for two months. They usually had a very healthy sex life, but they’d had a dry spell for just over a week, as Sherlock was indisposed from a bout of the common cold. Finally feeling a bit better, the detective had ventured out to New Scotland Yard to get filled in by Lestrade on some cases he’d missed.

John, meanwhile, had been on the verge of climbing up the walls in sexual frustration. Over the past week he had felt uncomfortable asking Sherlock for sex while he was clearly not feeling well and was most likely contagious, and John had been too busy taking care of his detective to look after his own private needs. Since John had a naturally higher sex drive than Sherlock, he rarely went more than a day or two without an orgasm, but it had now been almost eight days.

Grateful to have some time to himself, John shucked off his jeans and pants, and lifted off his t-shirt before settling in the centre of his bed. He hadn’t yet fully abandoned it in favour of sleeping in Sherlock’s, as he still sometimes used it when he wanted to spend a little more time pleasuring himself. He kept some sex toys in his upstairs bedroom that Sherlock didn’t know about. John was unsure of how to introduce the idea to Sherlock or how he would respond, so for now John was content to steal away to use them when he needed just a little something extra to take the edge off.

As John laid back and started to rub his hands down his chest and stomach, he thought of what he wanted to use today. He thought about the blue anal beads in the bag at the back of his closet, and of the small glass plug alongside it. Both had been purchased years ago, when a particularly adventurous girlfriend had introduced John to anal play and he’d discovered he really loved it; he loved the soft burn of being stretched open, the feeling of fullness, and especially the pressure against his prostate that made his whole body zing with pleasure.

Although John loved those toys, he knew it wasn’t what he needed today. He dragged his left hand down to his cock, which was starting to fill out in anticipation as his right hand continued to rub each of his nipples in turn. Today he had a primal urge to fuck, to thrust hard into wet heat, to feel his thick cock fully encased in tight softness as he released. And since Sherlock wasn’t able to give him what he needed at the moment, his fleshlight would have to do. 

He reached over to the bedside table, where he found the cylindrical toy in the bottom drawer. To the naked eye, it looked like your ordinary torch. It had a slim black handle that fed into what looked like a lens with a light behind it. It was very convincing, until John unscrewed the cap and tossed it to the side, revealing not a bulb or a battery compartment but instead a small, pink replica of a tight rectum. He fished around for some warming lube in another drawer--he was too impatient to take the time to go and warm up the toy in the sink.

He had bought the toy shortly after moving into 221B and suffering a dry spell that was exacerbated by Sherlock consistently driving away all of John’s girlfriends. He had heard about the toy in the army where a few were floating around, but John was too hygienic-minded to use it back then, and had besides thought it a little pathetic at the time. 

But as he got more and more desperate in those first few months of living here, John had come to realize that sometimes his hand just wasn’t enough. He went online and although he initially cringed at having to pick between ‘butt’ or ‘lady’, he eventually opted for what he figured was the more gender-neutral option. It was discreetly shipped, and he kept it in his bedside table. It had gotten more than its fair share of use over the years he’d been here. 

Relaxing back onto the bed, John left the fleshlight and lube beside him for now, and went to work on bringing himself to full hardness. He went back to rubbing his chest and stomach as his left hand returned to stroking his uncut cock. He sighed in relief as he felt the first small waves of pleasure from his hand. It didn’t take long for him to become fully hard after days of denial, and soon the first drop of precum landed on his stomach. It felt so good that it was hard for him to stop, but he knew the fleshlight would feel so much better against his cock.

He bent his knees and braced his feet on the mattress as he poured the warming lube into the toy. He rubbed more of the lube onto his straining cock and lined up his thick head with the opening of the fleshlight. John let out a long, low moan as he breached the toy. He pulled it down past his head, and watched it open up to accept him. He brought it farther onto his cock until it rested against his small thatch of ash blonde pubic hair. He enjoyed the much-missed sensation of slick, wet heat surrounding his cock.

He couldn’t keep himself from thrusting minutely up into the toy, so he closed his eyes and let his fantasy overtake him. He imagined having Sherlock above him, sitting on his cock and holding him down as he ground his hips against John. He dragged the fleshlight up his length and stopped when it was just around the head, planting his feet on either side of him and preparing to thrust up into it. He thrust upwards over and over again, letting moans fall from his mouth while he pictured fucking into Sherlock. 

The fantasies of Sherlock had started a year ago, when John first realized his feelings, but was not yet confident enough to act on them. He shied away from the dating scene in favour of staying home with his detective, watching television and eating takeaway. As the two grew closer, John couldn’t help but start seeing Sherlock when he used his toy, even though he normally preferred to picture an anonymous blonde bouncing on him, or a young army corporal eager to take him in. 

Now that John knew from experience what it felt like to fuck Sherlock, he had no trouble picturing the detective’s lean form towering over him, his curls matted to his forehead as he rode John, with his long fingers gripping John’s good shoulder. He stopped thrusting and let his hand do all the work, pumping the toy over him faster and faster. The smooth texture of the inside of the toy felt amazing against the thick veins of his cock, and he could feel his muscles tightening as he brought himself closer and closer to edge.

“Sher-sherlock...unngh...” John’s eyes slammed shut as his orgasm hit him, keeping the toy moving slowly up and down his length as he pumped ropes of come into it, his body tense and contracting with each spurt. He shoved his free hand against his mouth to stifle his load groan as he rode out the sensation, his hips jerking as he came down from his high. 

John pulled the fleshlight off of his sensitive cock before collapsing bonelessly against the bed, entirely spent. He knew he would have to get up and do some cleaning before Sherlock got home, but for now was content to relax and feel the aftershocks of pleasure throughout his body.

After a few minutes, he tenderly rose from the bed, stretched his muscles, and fished around for a tissue to wipe off his cock before pulling his pants and jeans back on. He pulled his t-shirt back down over his head and grabbed the fleshlight to bring downstairs to the washroom, praying he wouldn’t run into Mrs. Hudson on the way. He rinsed out the sleeve and shook off its excess water before returning upstairs, screwing the cap back on, and returning what looked like a normal torch back to his nightstand. He tossed the lube back into the other drawer and straightened the bedding, backing out of the room and closing the door as if he’d never been there.

Hoping Sherlock would return soon feeling better, John washed up and started preparing lunch for the two of them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said there'd be a hint of plot but it kind of got away from me. Enjoy!

Sherlock made a swift recovery from his cold, and his sex life with John returned to normal over the next few weeks.

Since their relationship was still fairly new, they were in the honeymoon stage, and they couldn’t get enough of each other. They often found themselves staying in bed late into the morning, lazily making love as the sun warmed their bedroom, their quiet gasps of pleasure filling the room for hours before they were resigned to get up and make breakfast.

Now their days were more active, with John’s afternoon shift at the surgery running until half six, and Sherlock’s casework with Lestrade was keeping him busy. They always took the time to eat dinner together, and usually retired to the couch afterwards to unwind.

On this night, they were both looking forward to some relaxation time. John had spent yet another day reassuring worried parents that it was only seasonal allergies and that their children would be fine, while Sherlock had been occupied with following the trail of a jewel thief that had led him to Gatwick Airport, where he had lost the thief. He’d returned to Baker Street disappointed, but with a promise from Lestrade that he would be the first person contacted if the thief made a move.

John let out a deep sigh as he relaxed into the couch, immediately opening his arms to accept Sherlock, who clambered on after him. They adjusted into a supine position so Sherlock could bury his face in John’s chest, inhaling his scent and recognizing spices from that night’s dinner alongside the distinct smell of hospital disinfectant. Absent-mindedly John began to weave his fingers through Sherlock’s mess of curls and rubbed his scalp. He loved how unguarded Sherlock was when they were alone together, showing his softer, loving side that craved physical affection.

“Mmm…” Sherlock purred, the sound muffled by John’s t-shirt. “That feels so good.”

John remembered when Sherlock had uttered those same words that morning, a pillow under his hips as John thrust into him sleepily and unhurriedly. Stirred by memories of their morning lovemaking and the feel of Sherlock’s warm body pressed against him, John felt his cock start to fill out against the detective’s chest.

“John-” Sherlock gazed up at him. He could hear John's sighs above him as he began to kiss and breathe down John's clothed stomach, John acutely aware of each warm touch. "What do you want?"

After a long day John knew exactly what he wanted and had no trouble asking for it. 

"Suck me off," John urged, gently pushing a compliant Sherlock off of him to kneel on the floor. John swung his feet around to plant them on either side of the detective's knees. Keeping a hand in Sherlock’s hair, he leaned down to press their lips together, meeting chastely before letting Sherlock go to work on his fly.

Once out, John’s cock was fully hard in a matter of moments, and John let out a sharp cry when Sherlock promptly took half of it into his mouth.

When they had first gotten together, Sherlock had been shy in his technique. Unlike John, Sherlock had never performed oral sex on a man and was somewhat apprehensive. He would take John in slowly and gently, overly concerned about shielding his teeth and avoiding his gag reflex. With some practise and encouragement, it wasn’t long before Sherlock (ever the fast learner) had mastered the art of fellatio and relished in getting his mouth around John whenever he wanted.

“Mmm…just like that, love.” John kept his eyes on Sherlock’s mouth as Sherlock took him right down to the base, applying just the right suction to make John’s toes curl into the carpet. John was mesmerized by the heart-shaped lips wrapped around his cock as they moved up and down. He felt Sherlock’s hands move up to grip his thighs on each side. 

John moved his foot to press against Sherlock’s hardened cock, still restrained inside his tight trousers.

“Uhhng…mmf…” Sherlock’s moans were muffled by the cock in his mouth when he felt John’s foot press onto his arousal. He closed his eyes as he started to rut against John’s foot, ignoring the ding of his mobile on the table behind him. He increased the suction on John’s cock and slowed his pace to allow John to thrust up into his welcoming throat.

“Oh fuck, Sherlock…I-I’m gonna come…” John thrust his hips up into the wet heat of Sherlock’s mouth one, two, then three more times before his body tensed and he was coming hard, his hands clenched in Sherlock’s hair as John released his load down Sherlock’s throat. “Fuck…” he kept thrusting his hips up minutely as he rode it out, releasing his grip on his lover’s messy brown curls before relaxing, boneless, back onto the couch. 

Sherlock politely waited until John had finished before pulling off gently, licking John clean and being reminded of his own unsatisfied erection by the foot still pushing at his groin. He tucked John back into his pants and trousers and stood up, undoing his own fly. He ignored the ding of his mobile once more and pushed his trousers down to his knees.

“Now you do me,” Sherlock requested impatiently. He pushed his hard cock closer to John’s face. John, still seated on the couch, was all too happy to oblige. He scooted to the edge of the cushion, and got to the perfect height to take Sherlock into his mouth. He wasted no time in swallowing him down, knowing that Sherlock was already close from half a footjob. He took in Sherlock to the base before going still and allowing the detective to thrust into John’s pliant mouth at his own pace. John reached up to take Sherlock’s soft bollocks into his hand and reached his other hand back to knead Sherlock’s arse. 

“John…John…” Sherlock kept his lover’s name on repeat as he thrust into his mouth, getting closer as he rubbed the head of cock against John’s soft palate. His balls tightened in John’s hand as he approached the edge. He threaded his fingers softly into John’s short, grayish-blonde hair, not applying any pressure. His thrusts became shallower, and he came with a quiet cry. John kneaded Sherlock’s balls while he released. John kept his mouth around him until he was done trembling, Sherlock feeling weak on his legs and withdrawing to collapse alongside John on the couch.

Sherlock slouched over onto John’s chest again, soft cock still hanging from his trousers. He felt John’s arms come around to encompass him as he breathed a deeply content sigh. John nudged his mouth against Sherlock’s ear and whispered soft words of love to his partner as they relaxed against each other.

Their reprieve didn’t last for long as Sherlock’s mobile dinged for a third time on the coffee table. Unable to ignore it any longer, he reluctantly pulled himself away from John to check who it was. His eyes lit up as he read the text messages.

“It’s Lestrade. He has reason to suspect that the jewel thief I was investigating today will be making a move at the Gatwick Airport later tonight. He wants me to stake it out.” Sherlock typed out a quick reply before he was up on his feet, tucking himself back into his trousers and checking to see if he was still presentable.

“You’re going, then?”

“Yes, of course. Wouldn’t miss it. I was tailing him all day long.” Sherlock became a ball of frantic energy as he rushed around the flat to gather his things. He pulled his big coat on and reached into the large inner pockets to check on his toolkit. “Coming with me?” The corner of his mouth quirked up as he met the doctor’s weary gaze from across the room.

A tired John relented when he saw the spark in his detective’s eyes, and knew it would be worth it to go to see Sherlock’s brilliant mind at work, to feel the satisfaction of solving the case side by side, the two of them against the rest of the world. “Absolutely. Shall we get a cab?” John smiled, getting up and straightening himself out.

“You go on and hold one, I’ll just be a minute.”

“Right.” John pulled on his coat and jogged down the stairs while Sherlock examined his rolled-up toolkit.

Mycroft had given him the toolkit several years before, when Sherlock had started making money off of his detective work, and it had been a valued possession ever since. It was the perfect size to fit into his coat pocket and contained essentials like a lockpick kit, small magnifying glass, cotton swabs, a small pair of scissors, collection bags, a pen and notebook, and a small torch. He’d noticed on their last case that the torch was out of batteries and was wanting to replace them before going on a dark stakeout. 

After a cursory look through desk drawers and cabinets, Sherlock had to admit that he wasn’t quite sure where their batteries were kept. Afraid of keeping John waiting and the possibility of missing the thief, Sherlock ran upstairs to John’s bedroom, the one place where he could recall seeing a spare torch one day while doing some snooping around. 

Grabbing the oversized torch from John’s bedside table, he shoved it into his inner coat pocket with the rest of his supplies and left to meet John in the waiting cab.


End file.
